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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27559621">confessions uttered in the (un)safety of your embrace</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookFangirlMaryJane/pseuds/BookFangirlMaryJane'>BookFangirlMaryJane</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Thoschei Spyvember Prompts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Barely Comfort, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Somewhat, Spoilers, Spyvember Prompts (Doctor Who), Texting, Thoschei, barely, talk about suicide/suicidal thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:15:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27559621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookFangirlMaryJane/pseuds/BookFangirlMaryJane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and the fam are visiting a church. While her fam gets distracted by the pretty windows, she sees a confession booth and decides, why not?</p><p>--o--</p><p>Written for Spyvember. Prompt was 'Confession Booths'.<br/>Warning: there is talk about suicide/suicidal thoughts/implied mention of a person giving up.<br/>There are also spoilers for all of series 12 of Doctor Who.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Thoschei Spyvember Prompts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>confessions uttered in the (un)safety of your embrace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, I had fun writing this. I usually miss those Month Prompt thingies.<br/>I did forget that this was supposed to be fluff, so it isn't. It really isn't. And it's barely Thoschei.</p><p>Again, trigger warning: There is talk of suicide/suicidal thoughts/someone giving up. Please, if this triggers you, don't read this. Even if it doesn't, please proceed with care.<br/>Also, spoilers for series 12. Although I only mention it in passing.<br/>(13 is really calm and collected in this one, not traumatized. Mostly because she's Not Thinking About It but meh.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>They’re in a church. Because apparently, her fam likes looking at colorful glass. Which… Alright, that’s fair, she likes doing that, too. Colorful glass sparkling in the sunlight? Brilliant. She just thinks it’s a bit boring, this random church with its glass windows. There are better churches. Grand windows, magnificent mosaics, colors sparkling throughout the whole year due to the never-setting suns. She’s going to have to take them there next.</p><p>While Ryan drags Yaz and Graham over to some plaque to read up on the scenes depicted on the glass, the Doctor strolls aimlessly through the rest of the church. It’s a small one, quaint, and there are only a few humans inside.</p><p>There is a feeling of serenity hanging in the air, of peace and calm. The blonde closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. It smells of ancient stones and of humanity, of worship and divinity, of regret and forgiveness. She opens her eyes again.</p><p>Far in the back of the church, she finds the confession boots. The Doctor considers for a moment. Should she? Shouldn’t she? Confession… That word leaves a bitter taste on her tongue, the sharp sting of imprisonment and betrayal and deceit. She tastes smoke.</p><p>Before she can overthink it, her legs have already carried her over into the corner. One of the booths is empty. Quickly she slips inside and draws the dark red curtain close. It’s comfy in here. There’s a pillow on the seat and the darkness, while not fully darkness to her, is like a blanket, enveloping her. The Doctor cautiously relaxes into it.</p><p>Someone in the booth connected to hers coughs. She draws herself up again and blinks into the semi-darkness. “Uhm, hello.” The person in the other booth answers: “Hello, my dear. Are you here to confess something?”</p><p>The Doctor gnaws at her lower lip. “I s’pose so, yeah. Just… not sure where to start.”</p><p>“Might I suggest starting at the beginning?” the man offers. His voice is smooth, soft. She feels herself relax at it, even if she tenses at the words.</p><p>“The beginning.” A dry chuckle forces its way out of her throat. “Yes, that is… a good start, isn't it? But, uhm, I’m afraid it’d get a bit… too long if I start at the beginning.” And she doesn’t know what the beginning is. She has no idea how old she is, how many lives she has had, how many times Techteun killed those wide-eyed children to…</p><p>With a harsh breath the Doctor shakes off the thoughts. Not now.</p><p>“Then maybe you want to start with what you think you are seeking forgiveness for, my dear?” the man says, and there’s an odd tone to his voice. She shakes it off as her being nervous. She is. Why is she talking to this person again? Confessing?</p><p>“Forgiveness…” She lets the word roll over her tongue, tastes it, feels its sharp edges press into the corners of her mouth. Is she seeking forgiveness? Is that what this is about?</p><p>Hesitantly, she corrects: “It’s not really forgiveness I’m after, I don’t think so at least. More… reassurance. For something.” Reassurance she’s doing the right thing. Even if she already knows the answer should be ‘no’.</p><p>“Tell me, then, my dear, and I will try to give my advice.”</p><p>She sighs and closes her eyes. It’s easier like this. “There’s this… <strong>person</strong>,” she tentatively starts. “They are a bit… dangerous. They’re responsible for a lot of deaths.” Her lips are dry. She licks over them and keeps going.</p><p>“This person isn’t always the best of people. But they can be. If they want to be, they can be incredibly kind. But sometimes they just… aren’t. They break everything they touch. They kill a lot of people. They should be stopped. They should be locked up.”</p><p>Her voice cracks and she stops talking. The man in the other booth is silent for a moment. Then he asks: “This person is someone close to you?” She just hums. “And you are unsure what to do? Whether to alert authorities or not?”</p><p>She frowns. “No, I… it’s…” She shakes her head, as if he can see her, and rakes a hand through her hair. “They can be good. If they want to be. But that’s not… not the problem. It’s…”</p><p>Why is this so hard? The words are right there, on the tip of her tongue, but they just won’t fall from her lips. She draws in a breath, purely because she’s taught herself to calm down this way, and then pushes on.</p><p>“They’ve… expressed some rather self-destructive tendencies. They don’t want to… keep going.” Oh, this is so hard, so very hard, but the words are out and she feels better.</p><p>“I see. And you are not sure how to help this person?”</p><p>Her hearts clench. “No. I’m… I’m not sure if I <strong>should</strong>. They… hurt people. If they don’t… If they want to make this choice, should I… should I really stop them from making it?”</p><p>The man is silent.</p><p>“I just mean, what if I stop them, and then someone dies? That’s my fault, then, isn't it? That blood is on my hands and I can’t ever wash it off.”</p><p>With faint surprise, the Doctor realizes that she’s crying. There are teartracks on her cheeks. When did that happen? She can’t remember…</p><p>“Well, I’m not sure I fully grasp your situation just yet. You said this person can be good, yes?” Good. Brilliant. She’s not going to get into an argument about the right word. “Yeah. If they want to be, if they try really hard.”</p><p>With a sigh the man asks: “And how can you be sure that they would not try? If you were to support them, if you were to help them keep going, would that not put a stop to the deaths? How can you know that they will hurt someone again?”</p><p>A choked laugh bubbles over the Doctor’s lips. “Because that’s what always happens! They try so hard, so very hard, but it doesn’t mean anything in the end because they just can’t change who they are! They can’t. They just keep on killing people… And I don’t know how long I can keep on doing this, how long I can keep on clinging to hope that it will change, that… <strong>they</strong> will change.”</p><p>She closes her eyes again, feels tears brimming in the corner. It’s just so very hard… “What do I do? I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”</p><p>“Have you talked to this person about the issue?” the man asks and the Doctor lets out a huffed laugh. “Yeah, sure, because that’s such a brilliant idea.” When he stays silent, she adds: “I couldn’t. I don’t think it would make much of a difference. They… they’ve given up. Why would they try to… convince me to help them? That’s not how that works.”</p><p>“But how can you be sure if you haven't asked for confirmation? How can you be certain, Doctor?” the man asks and…</p><p>And the Doctor stills. Because she’s reasonably certain that she never gave him her name. So how does this guy know who she is?</p><p>“I…” she starts, mind racing. “I just know. It’s… in their nature to be like this. It’s just…” She tilts her head, listens to the other’s breathing. “Well, something happened. Recently. And it changed… their perspective of things. Their approach of things.”</p><p>“Oh?” the man asks, and the Doctor startles. Because that innocent little word, spoken just like that, suddenly makes her recognize the voice. This is… this is low, even for him.</p><p>When the Doctor realizes she’s been too quiet for too long, she quickly keeps on talking. “Yeah, there was… a thing.” What is he doing here? Is he here to threaten her or her fam? Her fam! Are they alright? Did he do anything to them?</p><p>“A thing?”</p><p>What is his endgame here?</p><p>“They… found out something. And it…” She hates this. She doesn’t want to know that it’s him, wants to pretend to still be speaking to some faceless priest, some guy who has no clue just how much her life has been turned upside down again. Because of <strong>him</strong>. Because of what he found, because of what he showed her, <strong>had</strong> to show her.</p><p>“It broke them,” she admits in a low whisper. “I truly think it broke them and I don’t know how to fix that.” Let her pretend, let her believe it’s not him. When she first started talking, she had no idea just how much she needs to talk about this with someone.</p><p>“Do you think they want to be fixed? Have they asked for that?” He sounds a bit weird. Cutting but not trying to be. And <em>oh</em>, suddenly everything falls into place.</p><p>“No. No, they haven't. They wouldn’t. Too stubborn.”</p><p>They are idiots, the two of them. The Doctor can’t believe they’re having this conversation by pretending not to be having it with each other. Can’t believe he’s so oblivious. Can’t believe she is, as well.</p><p>“They had a chance,” she says after a long moment of silence. “Not too long ago, they had the chance to… But… But I couldn’t…” Oh, dangerous. She slipped up. Or did she? She doesn’t know anymore, isn't sure if she wants him to catch on or not. Part of her wants to. Part of her needs him to realize what’s going on.</p><p>“I couldn’t do it. I suppose I’m truly just a coward. Can’t even…” Tears in her eyes, throat closing up, she chokes on her last words.</p><p>“Now, I don’t believe that’s true. From what you’ve said, I can only surmise that you are torn between two choices and are unable to see which the right one is.” Idiot, idiot, idiot.</p><p>“It seems to me that you haven't given up hope yet for this person. And I do not believe that you should. If there is even the faintest hope that this person can be good, then why would you choose to turn your back on them?”</p><p>Oh, she knows, she knows what he’s saying, what he’s trying to make her see, but… “It’s easier. Easier to always expect the worst. If I pretend not to get attached, then maybe it won’t hurt when… I…”</p><p>“But what if this person depends on your hope in them?” He sounds desperate. And <em>oh</em>, she can’t do this to him. Not like this. The Doctor takes a deep breath and then slowly lets it out again.</p><p>“Y-you’re right. You’re right, I shouldn’t give up just like that. I can’t. I…” She’s not sure if she’s lying or not. Lying for him, lying to make him feel better, lying to give him hope. Or not lying. Not lying for herself, not lying because maybe she really can’t give up hope, not lying because maybe she has something to hold on to that she can’t just… throw away.</p><p>“Thank you,” the Doctor says, and she <strong>means</strong> it. “Thank you for listening, thank you for… helping me work through this. I’m… I’m not gonna give up. I can’t give up. Thank you so much for making me realize that.”</p><p>There’s a noise of surprise from his booth. She chooses to ignore it. Chooses to tuck it in the back of her mind, to be examined later. If she touches it now, she might crack. Break, splinter, like glass. Let her pretend. Let her pretend.</p><p>“Of course, my dear.” The endearment makes her hearts clench. He sounds so honest. She wants to cry. She doesn’t. Instead, she drags her coat sleeves over her face and rids herself of the traces of her breakdown, wipes away the tears that have spilled over her cheeks and pulls herself together. Her fam is probably already looking for her. If he hasn’t done something to keep them busy.</p><p>“Thank you,” she finds herself saying, again. “Thank you for giving me hope.”</p><p>Before he can answer she’s already pulled back the curtain and leaves the confession booth. She’ll… send him a text later. Maybe.</p><p>Her fam is still standing by the plaques, reading avidly. It takes one look at the thing to realize they’re trapped in a trance. Clever. He didn’t want to be interrupted, after all. One quick whir of her sonic breaks the spell and they’re blinking, frowning.</p><p>“Are you guys done? I’m craving ice cream. And after that I can take you to a <strong>really</strong> impressive church. One with windows depicting centuries worth of history.” Graham nods while Ryan and Yaz are still confused, holding their heads and blinking quickly.</p><p>“Sure, Doc. I’m feeling a little woozy. Maybe fresh air will help. And getting something to eat. I’ve forgotten my sandwiches on the TARDIS.”</p><p>The Doctor smiles at them. “Then it’s decided. Come on, let’s get a shift on! I heard they’ve got over thirty different ice cream flavors in a shop nearby.”</p><p>Yaz chuckles. “Well then, let’s go. You’re paying, though. I don’t think any of us have the right currency money.”</p><p>That stops the Doctor dead in her tracks. She blushes. “Ah. Right, then we probably have to make a quick stop to get some money. I tend to never carry money with me when I need it.”</p><p>Under the chuckles of her fam they leave the church. For a moment, the Doctor feels eyes on her, burning in her back, and she allows herself a small smile. She’s not sure what his endgame is, what he wanted to accomplish with this, but she’s reasonably certain it didn’t go the way he wanted it to. Not at all.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>—o—</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Later, when they’re all back on the TARDIS, the Doctor hovers on the console, her phone in front of her and indecision in her hearts. Should she? Shouldn’t she?</p><p>Before she can decide, he does it for her. The beeping of his notification tone and the little bar at the top of the phone tell her she’s got one new message from The Master.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>‘Doctor, I’m shocked. Confessing to a stranger that you’ve given up hope in saving me? How very unlike you.’</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>She snorts and texts back.</p><p>
  <em>‘Hardly a stranger if you call me 'Doctor' not even five minutes into the conversation and then tack on ‘Oh?’ Idiot. I knew it was you.’</em>
</p><p>His reply comes fast.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>‘Why did you keep going, then? To twist the knife? To see if I would reveal myself and beg for your hope again?’</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>A frown crosses over her face. No. She knows he wouldn’t do that again. Not him.</p><p>
  <em>‘No. Suppose I just needed to say it. Wanted to see if it would help. And it did. I’ve got hope again.’</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>‘Hope that I’ll change? Hope that I’ll turn Good and stop hurting people?’</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>She smiles and rolls her eyes at the phone. He's not that stupid, he knows they're done with that.</p><p>
  <em>‘No, I know we’re past that. I know you’re not going to do that. I’m not going to fix something that’s not broken.’</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>‘Then why do you need hope, Doctor?’</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Didn’t you listen? Really.’</em>
</p><p>She waits for him to ask but he doesn’t. Of course, he wouldn’t. Stubborn idiot.</p><p>
  <em>‘I never said I was talking about </em>
  <strong>you</strong>
  <em>.’</em>
</p><p>Then she drops her phone and her forehead on the console. Breathes.</p><p>Let him do with that what he wants. For now, the Doctor is not giving up. She's still alive. The Master is still alive. Maybe this will work out. Maybe it won’t. But at least for now, she has hope, and she won’t lose it again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">The End</span>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I'm not perfectly happy with the ending. It's a bit rushed, I'll admit that, but I really wanted to post this today and I already re-wrote the whole ending three times now and it doesn't get better than this.</p><p>I also wrote this in a setting somewhere post-Timeless Children and post-13-in-prison, but she's somehow not traumatized by it (or is just very good at hiding her trauma) and her fam doesn't know what happened and the Master is... there. Scheming something or other. I don't know. I just liked the prompt 'confession booth' and then it devolved into this.</p><p>Also, I have no idea what the hell that title is. At first, it was Confession Booths, but then I looked at it and thought 'god that's boring' so I tried to find some good poetry but apparently there's such a thing as 'confession poetry' where you just confess things in poetry, and that's not what I wanted, so then I thought 'hey, let's make it sound like poetry even if it isn't' and then I had 'confession uttered in the safety of...' and couldn't think of anything. Because it's not safe. Because the Master is the last person you would want to confess something to. So then I made it '(un)safety' and then the only thing that really fit was 'your embrace' and I went with it. Even though they don't embrace. God, they don't even see each other! Why is this Thoschei again?!</p><p>Maybe I'll get some more Spyvember prompt stories up this month. Maaybe. I have some more ideas but nothing concrete yet. And I might miss the days the prompts are for and post it a bit late. It really depends on if I have time to write and inspiration to write something fit for posting it.</p><p>Aaanyway (stopping myself before I start rambling more).<br/>Stay healthy, wear masks, wash your hands and read lots of books and fanfics.<br/>Have a nice day, everyone!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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